


A Sacrament Long Overdue

by bloodonmytypewriterkeys



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Cheating, M/M, Masochism, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Reunion Sex, Service Submission, Unsafe Sex, gagging, sex is one of the seven sacraments right?, the cheating is discussed in some depth, this is not a How To guide for ANYTHING, very minor daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodonmytypewriterkeys/pseuds/bloodonmytypewriterkeys
Summary: Jonah and Chelsey are lying low post prison-break, and they have a lot of feelings to work through. It's lucky Chelsey knows exactly how to handle them.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	A Sacrament Long Overdue

Chelsey being in the bathroom gave Jonah just enough time to have a complete meltdown. He checked the fridge: stocked with everything from his list, and he quickly put two beers in the freezer to give them that nice frosty exterior, and he checked that both the whiskey stones and the ice cubes were frozen, and turned the vodka label-up. He lifted the lid on the slow cooker, the meal still warm enough to steam, the meat falling off the bones. Rice in the rice cooker still fluffy and hot. He boiled the kettle, fussed with the pot and the cups. Hand-washed the greens he had already picked out, tossed the salad, laid it out perfectly in a salad bowl with dressings on the side and sprinkled chopped nuts over the surface.

Stopped, staring at the salad, to repeat Chelsey's allergies and dislikes in his head so as to be absolutely certain the salad contained none (walnuts and ranch dressings the likeliest culprits in a salad, but also badly done croutons, which were an insult to proper croutons. Jonah had opted in this case for a salad without croutons.)

Then he rushed into the living room, fluffing pillows, arranging them just so, checked the foot rest was at optimal length from the armchair, toed with the corner of the rug that wasn't sitting as exactly flat as he hoped even though he'd ironed it. Quickly into the bedroom, where he was so overwhelmed he couldn't even touch the bed. He wasn't honestly sure how he'd managed to make it in the first place, except by just not thinking about it as _Chelsey's bed,_ which even now was a thought that made his breath catch in his throat. And he had lube (silicone or water based) and condoms (Chelsey already had an established favourite) and underneath the bed a trunk full of neatly arranged toys covering as many things as he thought he reasonably could.

In this area, as with food, it was impossible to cover every base. He already knew Chelsey's preferences but those were _old_ preferences, pre-prison, and it was impossible to say what he might be craving now that he was Out. Jonah had done everything right, and that included No Contact. God had he wanted to talk. The absence had been like going without food or water, like his mouth was dry and his stomach empty but for _years_. Years.

Oh god- 

He wandered into the kitchen, got as far as getting a cup and turning on the tap, and then sat down on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees. The terror didn't even come as words or worries any more, just a white roar of noise and the pressure of walls collapsing around him.

Chelsey walked through the door and Jonah jumped to his feet, turned off the tap hastily, and stood there at attention with his cup still clutched in a white-knuckled hand. He was trembling, felt even his hands begin to uncontrollably shake as Chelsey slowly approached. He was clean now and looked relieved for it. Clean-shaven, a strange look on him, but it would grow out. His hair was short, too, not long enough for the natural waves to show. But still just looking at his face was healing, just seeing him here in reality was healing.

"I couldn't contact you," he said, as he had said over and over in his mind for more than a year. "It wouldn't have been safe. I wanted to." He could feel himself blathering, retreating further into his corner as Chelsey approached. "I really wanted to, I'm sorry, I just _couldn't_ , it wouldn't have been-" Chelsey reached out and put one gentle hand on Jonah's cheek.

Silence, as their eyes finally met, and Jonah slowly slowly leaned into the contact. Calluses and warm skin, smelling only of water and soap. "My boy," Chelsey said, his voice soft and low and achingly familiar. Painful, like a shock of ice against a burn. "I know you did everything right." Jonah felt tears well up in his eyes, still unable to look away. "My boy," he said again, like to a newborn, "come here." Their movements were as orchestrade as a dance, and Jonah gently collapsed into Chelsey's arms. He dropped the cup, buried his face in Chelsey's neck and stood there in the crushing embrace he had dreamed of for so many days and nights. One hand rubbed his back, heavy and soothing. "You were so clever. You did everything so well. The way you hid our identities, the backup plan, this safe house- I look forward to hearing about it all."

Jonah made a sound of pain. It felt too close, too real, all too much at once. He could have endured it more easily if Chelsey beat him, at least then he might have deserved it. 

But as with all things, Chelsey knew what to do. He pressed a kiss to the top of Jonah's head, and stepped back, leaving the younger man for a moment without anchor. "Two fingers, on ice." He paused, stroked one knuckle across Jonah's jaw towards his lips. "And just a nip for yourself." With that he turned and walked into the living room, taking his seat on the armchair but kicking the footrest out of the way.

The mistake stung like a slap, but in a way that took the edge off things. He had made a mistake and the world had not ended. What promise, what reassurance.

Sudden and unbidden came the thought of his family. This would be about the time the police came to question them, and soon they would be searching his house, then his shed. There was nothing left for them to find. Everything not taken with him had been thoroughly destroyed. He had cleaned the room out with a mild bleach wash, and gone through his papers to make sure nothing had been mis-filed there, and the morning he left he had filed away copies of every account detail Hannah might need to access for insurance or to close his accounts or whatever else she wished to do. Cards for the kids were filed away next to their birth certificates, giving them an email address he could eventually check if he considered it safe, and telling them he loved them but he had an obligation he simply could not leave.

His note to Hannah was a little more blunt. "What I am doing today, to you and them, is wrong. I love you all but you know and have always known that I have other priorities; I am sorry for this, but I am not ashamed of it. If there is anything else you need from me, I will someday be reachable at that email address. I would appreciate if you leave me a forwarding address when you move. - Jonah." 

It had hurt at the time. Now it was over he didn't really care. He cracked the whiskey and poured two fingers, carefully placed the ice in, and took a sip from the bottle for himself. Chelsey watched him through the doorway, visible just in the corner of his eye, so he took another sip for the pleasure of being watched. It was warm and stinging and tasted like Chelsey's mouth, like an entree before the main thing.

When he brought over the glass, Chelsey motioned to where the footrest had been. Jonah didn't need any more instruction than that to kneel, close but not quite between Chesley's knees. That was all it took to feel his cock twitch.

Chelsey sipped the whiskey and stared down at him. "There are a lot of things prison doesn't have. Comfortable chairs, good showers, good whiskey. It doesn't want for bodies." Jonah simply waited, ready, content for anything that could happen. "But you're not just any body are you? I've lost count how many people sucked my cock this year, but none of them were as eager as you." He took another sip, grey eyes still staring down at Jonah. "Take your shirt off. Then you can suck my cock."

Jonah stripped in half a second, threw his shirt behind him. His mouth watered as he undid Chelsey's fly, slid down the zip, pulled his cock out. It flopped softly to one side but was already beginning to harden, filling up more as Jonah closed his mouth around it and licked the skin.

He pulled back a bit, let drool run down his lips like he didn't know any better, then started at Chelsey's balls and licked his way slowly up to the head. That was enough to get him fully hard. Ignoring his gag reflex (which alone of any part of him had done well in the intervening months), he swallowed down the head. Gagged, pushed down until he was flush with the fly of Chelsey's jeans, and stayed there with the tiniest movement as his lungs burned up.

When he truly couldn't take it anymore he pulled off and sat back on his heels, letting Chelsey see his eyes watering and his drooling lips as he gasped for air. The second he had any breath back he went down again and licked along the head of Chelsey's cock, scooping up salty precome with his tongue. Again, tonguing the slit like he could get it inside. And down again, all the way down, and back up, and again until he was fucking his throat on Chelsey's cock, gagging every thrust. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he felt more at peace than he had felt since they'd last been together like this.

Fingers wrapped in his hair, pulling taught and then yanking him off, nearly ripping Jonah's hair out as he pulled back with the taste of Chelsey's cock deep in his throat and a whine on his lips. Wanted nothing more then than to be held down by his hair and have his throat fucked mercilessly. Well, he wanted one thing more. More than he wanted everything else that there was in the world.

The faintest pink was warming Chelsey's cheeks, leaving him much more put together than Jonah. Jonah felt like he was going to implode from need and it must have been written on his face. "Did you get yourself ready for me?" Jonah nodded desperately, couldn't make his mouth work to explain how he'd sat in the bath fingering himself, getting so hard precome smeared on his stomach. How afterwards he'd done the housework with a plug stretching his hole, so wide and deep he'd thought he might just come bending over to stock the fridge. But he couldn't say any of that, except with the desperation of his nod and his still-open mouth. Chelsey made a pleased noise. "Good boy. I like the thought of you doing all your hard work with your hole still sore and wet." Jonah groaned, dropping his head against the couch as something hotter and harsher than lust scorched through him. He'd liked it too. Liked every pang of discomfort, knowing what it meant. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Please," he managed to whisper. "If you want to."

Chelsey smiled at him warmly. "Naked, face down, on the bed." He paused as if considering. "Put a cock ring on, and two pillows under your hips. Not that I don't like fucking you when you've already come your brains out - but tonight I'm going to suck your cock." Jonah dug his fingers into his cock so painfully he had to groan, and still he worried he might come there untouched. Not that it would take him long to get hard again, with that thought in mind. When he had something approaching control, Chelsey nudged him with a foot. "Go."

Jonah moved himself mechanically, standing up and walking into the room. He had just enough presence of mind to be pleased that Chelsey had known he'd have such things as cock rings in the safe house. They knew each other, truly. Chelsey knew him the way God knew him, from the cellular level to his intangible soul. He struggled to get the cock ring on his erection, managing in the end with some pain, and then lay down on the bed as told. It left his arse high in the air, his face flattened on the covers, his cock pressed to the pillows. He shuffled back a fraction, taking some of the friction off his cock, making it that fraction easier not to just come right here right now.

The small sounds of Chelsey walking into the room and getting settled ran over him like torture. He could feel each rustle of fabric like it was against his bare skin. By now he was covered in goosebumps. The drawers opened and closed as Chelsey got the lube out, the bed dipped as he knelt on it. "Not a lot of condoms in prison," Chelsey said, voice so relaxed it was approaching bored. "Coulda caught anything." His thumb stroked down Jonah's crack, just brushing his hole. "You use condoms with your wife, son?"

"No, sir." Chelsey's thumb, still dry, pressed down on his hole. Just breaching the ring of muscle. It was all Jonah could do not to press back into it or hump the bed.

"Of course you don't." He gave a single rough laugh, a sound like heaven itself, and pulled his thumb away. Moments later, a cold dollop of lube landed where his thumb had been, right on the hot skin of Jonah's hole. "Your missus could be whoring her way around town when you're not there, how do you know otherwise? How do you even know those little angels are yours?"

Jonah swallowed, struggled with whatever flush of emotion this was drawing out. "I don't, sir."

Chelsey's thumb pressed all the way into him in one move, pulling straight back out to press down right on the ring of muscle in a way that wasn't quite painful. "You want me to use a condom, hm? Keep you nice and safe," Jonah was already shaking his head, but Chelsey kept speaking as he replaced his thumb with two fingers. "God, you're easy. But you're mine. Every bit mine. So if you want daddy to look after you, you just say the word."

"I want your come in me," Jonah groaned out, burying his face in the bedding. "Sir. Please."

Three fingers, rougher now, but still slow and deep. For a while they were both silent, except for the slick noise of Chelsey's hand working. Then the bed dipped as he settled in properly behind Jonah, lining up their hips. "Anyone fuck you while I was away?" Jonah shook his head violently. "Speak up!"

"No, sir. I only fucked m-" his voice cut off as Chelsey pressed inside him. More than he could bear. Full and tight and still he wanted it so much more, wanted to hurt. "My wife," he managed to finish. "I thought about you. When I was fucking her. When I was fucking myself, wishing it was you." He groaned with the first thrust. "Every minute."

Then it was silence, both of them breathless as Chelsey fucked him, his hands roaming around Jonah's body but always returning to his arse: tracing around the stretched rim of his hole, scratching his skin, stroking it. "You need a tattoo," Chelsey said, his hand cupping Jonah's ass. "Right here. Need my fucking name marked on you forever."

Jonah's hips bucked and he gasped just enough air to say, "A brand. Need you to brand me."

Fingers tightened on his hip, and tighter still, and then the small hard noises and ragged thrusts of Chelsey coming. All he ever wanted, ever needed. This man, and whatever he would give of himself. Their regular communion; the blood and flesh of his own personal Christ.

Chelsey pulled out while he was still hard and let his thumb drag over Jonah's hole as they parted, pressing down on his flesh and dragging a wet line down to his balls. "A brand," he repeated. "Right here. Maybe another on your wrist, let the whole world know you're mine."

"They know," Jonah panted. And then, to be as clear as possible, "Brand me anyway. You could do it right now."

The kiss came unexpectedly, harsh and deep and tasting still of warm whiskey. Onwards and onwards, until it felt like Chelsey was eating his soul right out of him. Jonah whined and twisted around on the sheets, getting himself closer until he could wrap his legs around his partner's waist and press the whole length of their bodies together. 

When Chelsey finally broke away, Jonah had time to gasp down one deep breath before a slap cracked across his face. As quickly as it had come the breath left him in a sharp shock. "Lie down," Chelsey growled, shoving him back onto the bed. Even if he'd wanted to, Jonah couldn't have resisted. He felt limp and boneless, as if he'd already come and his cock wasn't still aching hard, still dripping.

It had been a really long day. A long year, of preparation and waiting and patience and impatience. Trying to sleep last night knowing everything was already in motion, and then this morning leaving at five am in the freezing cold, with a heavy backpack and full car. Dropping things off at his safe points, checking the news, checking the radios, doing everything right. Steadily - quickly but without haste - just like Chelsey would have wanted it. And then all the running and the fighting and seeing him again, just touching him again, wanting him.

Chelsey's mouth closed wet and open around Jonah's cock and he jerked on the bed. It felt good. Too good. Better than he deserved. Even for this-

He'd only done this for his own sake. Chelsey probably could have sorted things out just fine on his own, might even have enjoyed his retirement to prison and parole for good behaviour when he was old and frail. 

But Jonah couldn't be without him. One year - one whole fucking _year_ \- had been so hard he might have died. How Hannah put up with him he couldn't imagine. Probably the lack of obvious vices: the fact that he had only a glass or two of wine any night, that he didn't smoke, didn't bet, didn't even go out with the boys or "go out with the boys." He had simply excised himself from the world of the living: made himself a ghost in their home.

Even the kids had felt it. Probably they'd be happier in a way, now that he was gone. "Gone" might be understandable in the place of a father who only went through the motions of loving him. Not that he didn't love them. Of course he loved their tiny hands and their soft hair and their messy rooms and the weight of them in his arms as he carried them out of the car but-

Chelsey's hands wrapped below his hips, thumbs digging into the soft spots between torso and thigh, and licked wetly around his cock like he had all the time in the world. 

The feeling after all this time of his orgasm beginning to build was shocking in a way. He'd been on the edge of it long enough to forget it was a precipice at all, and now... He raised one hand to his face, clenched the other in the sheets, let the noises he was making be warning enough. Then Chelsey's mouth was off him, replaced by his fist. "If we're ever parted again," Chelsey's rough voice said, "I'm going to lock your cock in a cage so you can't ever come without me." And then a cough, like a noise cut off half way. "By Christ I missed you. Prison would have been alright if I still had you."

He came. God, in all the orgasms he'd had since they last fucked, doing whatever he could do to get that extra edge to tip him over, nothing came close to just having Chelsey here, touching him. Familiar hands on his skin, the voice that sounded to him like the voice of God. For all that he supposedly already belonged to the holy union of marriage, this was the true sacrament. Every time they fucked it was a physical manifestation of something sacred and eternal, of the bedrock of faith upon which he built his life.

When he unwound enough to pay any attention to his surroundings, he found his stomach and thighs sticky with cooling come and Chelsey sitting on the bed quietly staring at him.

"You really missed me?" Jonah asked. Normally he stopped himself from asking such things - what a waste of both their time, what a pressure to put on either of them - but it felt so lovely to hear.

Chelsey pressed his lips with a fond smile and looked away. "I didn't really expect you to get me out. I thought with Hannah and Adam and Rebecca you would be... if not happy, at least able to move on enough to build something else. That was probably not the worst thing about prison but it's the one that now comes to mind." 

Jonah sat up, crawled over to sit next to him shoulder to shoulder. "You must have been angry with me."

"I suppose I was." He lifted one arm to wrap around Jonah, bringing the other man further down until Jonah's head lay in his lap. His hand brushed Jonah's cheek and hair but still he stared away at the wall. "It was difficult at first. Exciting, maybe, or at least different. Must be getting old, because I got the shit kicked out of me a few times." Immediately found Jonah's frown line and smoothed it back out. "Turnabout is fair play, and that's just how things have to start sometimes. I stabbed some people and so on, got myself some decent cocksuckers, made some truces, got solitary, all the usual stuff. But every day there was something I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted you to laugh at the fact that I was making the bed. I wanted to see you frowning as you worked, see your arms when you hold a man down, see your hands fixing my reading glasses so carefully. If I close my eyes and picture you, you're always doing something. Surrounded by signs of work: everything in its place but everything always moving. I only ever need to look at a room to know you've been there, and I never even thought..." he looked down at Jonah, his face soft and sad in a way it never was. "I didn't expect to miss that. I missed everything around me being full of meaning, full of you."

Surely neither of them had any words to talk about that. Jonah found Chelsey's fingers with his own hand and lifted them to his mouth, sucking on each fingertip one by one. The taste of salt and skin and come, and the relaxation that spread immediately through both of them. Only when Chelsey was half fucking his throat with two fingers did Jonah pull off with a slurp to speak. "I can't move on from you. I wouldn't ever want to, but it doesn't matter, because I can't. You are the lense through which I see my whole life, and even if you left me now I would never see except by the light you left."

The rough hand in his hair didn't really surprise him, not even as Chelsey pulled him upright and shoved him back on the bed. Jonah spread his legs easily, let Chelsey move his body however he liked. His cock gave a half-hearted twitch. Chelsey hovered over him on hands and knees, leaving bites scattered across his skin. "Stay," he ordered, before leaving the bed to rummage through the bag Jonah had packed. "Can you come again?"

"Maybe," Jonah said. He doubted it, at least for a little while, but everything Chelsey did turned him on. And he'd done more improbable things that day. 

Chelsey held up the plug Jonah had brought, a grin breaking out as he returned to bed. Without preamble he pressed it into Jonah's still wet, still loose hole pulling it fully out and thrusting back in a few times before settling it in. "There," he said, fully satisfied now that Jonah was horny and flushed. "When this is all over, I'm going to fix you up something perfect. Tie you up on a rack and fill you up properly, stuff every hole, and then just take to this beautiful body with a knife. I'm going to mark you every possible way. I'm going to sink my teeth so deep in you that the scars match my dental records, and I'm going to make you come so much you beg me to stop." Said all of this without moving, without touching Jonah, with just one finger on the end of the plug as if to be sure it was there. "In the meantime we'll make do with this. But don't you ever fucking forget who owns you."

"Never," Jonah promised. "Fuck. Let me wind down for a second. It feels-" he made a noise instead of a word, just struggling to think past the haze of feelings washed over him.

But true to his good word, Chelsey left him alone. He settled in against the headboard, tucked in by pillows, and held up an arm for Jonah to lean in against him. They settled together in silence, letting normality settle back in. Tomorrow he could tell Chelsey all his plans, all his preparation, the future that his year of hard work and patience had earned for them. It didn't matter right now.

They were back together again. Skin to skin. Sharing breath. Nothing else mattered.


End file.
